It Ain't Loaded, But It Sure Does Help A Bluff
by Ms Self Destruct
Summary: [Dallas Winston, you're too slow. Too fast for life, but too slow for death. You could have died all those times, years ago in knife fights, in jail, in rumbles..] Dally's last thoughts. Rated M for language. Please read and review. Oneshot.


"Stay gold, Ponyboy.. stay gold."

_Why? Why did you go, Johnny?_

My sneakers were pounding against the pavement. Where was I going?

_I could have handled anyone dying. The whole world could have caved in and I wouldn't have cared. But not you, Johnny._

My heater felt cool against my hipbone. The rest of me was on fire; I've never felt this panicked in my entire life.

_Why didn't you say anything to me? Fighting's no good?! Fighting's the only thing that keeps you alive, Johnny! Hasn't anything I've done for you told you something?!_

My eyes felt hot, and I think my cheeks were sweating. Whatever bit of a heart I had left was ripped out and stomped on. Knives cut open my chest to display my lungs only to be ground with sandpaper and salt. I could hardly breathe.

_I can't go on without you. You were the only thing I had left!_

The lump in my throat was swallowed down, as I caught a glimpse of a hazy light. Where was I? I ran towards the light, finding that it was the convenient store ten blocks from the vacant lot.

_If you're not around, Johnny, if you're no longer breathing.._

I couldn't control my pants when I entered the bright convenient store. Such a piece of shit, I'm surprised it's still running. My body calmed down a little, and I looked cool as I walked through the aisles, glaring at the clerk.

_Fuck, Johnnycake, maybe if you were hard like me.._

I knocked down a bunch of magazines. I didn't mean to, so I unconsciously started picking them up. Wait. What the fuck? Fuck those magazines; I destroyed all of them in one clean rip.

_..If you were hard like me, you wouldn't be in this fucking mess. Helping people does you no good!_

"You have to pay for those." I heard the voice. "Hey, I said you have to pay for those." SHUT THE FUCK UP, I wanted to say. I might have, because I was already charging at him, grabbing for my gun and soon it was aimed, point black at his forehead.

_See this piece of shit motherfucker, Johnny? He's nothing. Nobody means anything.. except for you._

"Give me the fucking money!" I didn't sound as cool as I wanted to, my voice cracked. My stomach was shaking worse than Tim's beat up truck. Tim, that fucker..

_Johnny, where did you go? Are you still thinking, or does everything turn off once you're dead?_

It wasn't much, but I wasn't surprised. The terrified shit set out nothing more than 100, 150 bucks tops on the counter, flat. I grabbed most of it, but some of it escaped my clammy grasp and I started running again.

_Where am I going? Will I see you soon, Johnny?_

On the way out, just before I reached the door, I heard a faint crack and then felt a sudden pain in my right side. It immediately throbbed, as if I had grown another limb and it got chopped off right after. The pain only got worse when I ran, so after I got out of the sight of the store, I lifted up my shirt and turned around.

_Shit! That fucker shot me! Maybe I will see you soon, Johnnycake.._

I had to get help. The Curtis' should know what to do. They can hide me out, no sweat. I ran to a payphone and emptied a dime in there, shaking while I dialed. Ring, ring. Fuck! Pick up the fucking phone!

_It was your fault anyway, you let him run into that fucking burning church. YOU FUCKING IDIOT._

"Hello?" Darry! My fingers were numb, and my voice was shaky.

_Tell him. Tell him how you fucked everything up, and Johnny's DEAD because of you!_

"Darry, shit, I just uh.."

_What did I just do? I just got shot, ripped up some magazines.._

"I just robbed the convenient store. The fuzz are after me, man! I need a place to hide. Meet me in the vacant lot." Why can't I sound cool? My voice kept fading in and out.

_Is this happening? Am I going to die?_

My entire body was freezing, except my face and my feet. Everything was numb, except my chest, my burning legs, and my gunshot wound. My chest has never felt so hot, except in that burning church, hearing Johnny's screams..

_Fuck it! Johnny went through this, why can't I?!_

My blood was draining from my body, like fuel from a Mustang. A blue mustang, driven by a mindless teenager with flashy class rings and a gut full of booze..

_Johnny knew he was going to die. I don't. Am I going to die tonight? Do I know it?_

Five blocks left. My body was never going to stop running, so it seems. I heard the sirens closing in, but I still had time. Time enough to get my last words in to Johnny, to tell him how much I cared. Time enough to pull him out of the burning hellhole before that beam ended his life. I only needed one more minute, ONE MINUTE, and none of this would have happened.

_Dallas Winston, you're too fucking slow. Too fast for life, but too slow for death. You could have died all those times, years ago; in knife fights, in jail, in rumbles.._

I just needed one minute -- no, ten seconds, and Johnny would have been alive!

_Dallas fucking Winston, how come you can run so fast now, but you weren't fast enough for Johnny?_

I slowed down. If I was going to be so fucking slow when Johnny's life was at stake, well hey, I might as well be a fucking snail in salt when my own life is on the line. He was all I had..

_Were you ready to die, Johnny? Sixteen years old, still young and scared and soft. You didn't even begin to know hard.._

One block to go. I paced myself, and it helped me breathe a little easier. My heart, who knew I still had one, was punching me in the head and echoed through my ears.

_What was your life like? Did you like it? Did you get what you wanted?_

Shit, I was what Johnny wanted! I half-sobbed and kneeled over, catching one breath before the sirens behind me caught up to me faster than a bullet. I started off in a fast sprint again, my legs on fire. On fire, like the collapsing beam of the abandoned church..

_My life has been a piece of shit since day one. You gotta be hard, and if you're not, then you gotta get hard, fast. Survivalism was the only thing on my mind, but what did I survive for?_

I saw the gang in the distance, rushing towards me, as I did the same to them. Darry. Soda. Steve. Two-Bit. Ponyboy.. but I had more company. The cop cars screeched to a stop.

_What did I live for?_

I turned as the car doors opened, and they shielded themselves behind them.

_What will I die for?_

"Freeze! You are under arrest, Dallas Winston!" I felt the golden streetlight beam on me. Fifteen seconds of fame; the spotlight was on me.

_It ain't loaded, but it sure does help a bluff._

My numb hand reached for the heater in my pants rim, as I ripped it out, cocking and aiming at the police officers before me.

_Johnny..._

The hail of gunfire impaled me, crucifying me like a spew of nails against the tar of the vacant lot. I doubled over, feeling a faint gargle in my lungs. I grinned at this sudden feeling of release. This permanent feeling, at ease. My world was spinning, the only world I've ever known. I felt heavy, but weightless.

_Is this what you felt?_

I wish you heard me.


End file.
